


Anything Once

by lesbianettes



Series: Collared [1]
Category: Chicago Med
Genre: Collars, It's basically the intro to the series, M/M, Smut, Stand Alone, Submission, bdsm relationship, sub!crockett, this is more fluff than smut actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 12:22:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21392077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianettes/pseuds/lesbianettes
Summary: Ethan buys Crockett a collar
Relationships: Ethan Choi/Crockett Marcel
Series: Collared [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542244
Kudos: 15





	Anything Once

The first time it comes up is late at night, Ethan's arm wrapped around Crockett as they ease their way toward sleep. They're exhausted from hours on their feet followed by dinner and two straight hours of dealing with the way Crockett teased Ethan all day. Even in the low light, Ethan can see the marks. Hickeys and a little irritation up and down his neck, rope burn on his wrists, bruises on his ass. A beautiful canvas, now sleepy and soft as Crockett pulls Ethan's hand up to his throat again and holds it in place. Ethan squeezes a little. Crockett likes being choked, but this isn't the same. It's security, in a way. He's said it makes him feel safe, like he doesn't have to think about anything because Ethan has him. He breathes. And Ethan feels it, just as he feels his steady pulse, and Crockett never seems more at ease than he does when there's a hand on his throat.

So easily, Crockett falls asleep like that. No bourbon-spiked hot cocoa necessary, like it used to be before Crockett started giving up control for him like this. A small action. A big change. And Ethan feels like it's because of him. Slow, even breathing and a peaceful heart, a warmth that Ethan has never felt before the moment he first pulled Crockett into his arms and felt wanted. Now he always feels wanted. Needed. 

So by all accounts, he should easily fall asleep right now. He's worn out and content. But instead, he lies awake with a loose grip on Crockett's throat and wonders. He can't do this all the time. But he's seen so often how it makes Crockett melt, and soothes him when he's high strung. On a bad day at the hospital, maybe this would help. But a hospital is not the time or place, and Ethan could very well be busy. Or Crockett could be wrist deep in a stomach, or whatever the fuck he's doing in surgery. It varies. 

Crockett's lips, still a little swollen, are slightly parted like they are when he's just starting to get worked up. They look like that when he gasps and squirms at the slightest friction against the front of his scrubs. Ethan can't resist kissing them, but regrets it when it makes Crockett stir with a sleepy whine. 

"Shh," he whispers, "go back to sleep."

Defiant eyes crack open and gleam in the dark. "Why're you still awake?"

His accent is thicker in his wrecked, worn out voice. Smooth honey, sticky sweet, dripping through the air and sinking into Ethan's skin.

"I was just thinking about you."

"Pretty gay of you, Choi."

He sinks back into sleep after that with ease, oblivious to Ethan's thoughts. And before long, Ethan falls asleep too, dreaming of the way Crockett relaxes at being controlled and the thrill that races through his body when he's choked. 

For a week, Ethan thinks about it, and how he just wants to be able to give Crockett that love and security more often, to give him something concrete that proves Ethan is always willing to take care of him, even when he can’t physically have his hand on Crockett for whatever reason. Like when he’s cooking, or when he’s busy taking care of Crockett in another way. Maybe even at work. He peruses BDSM forums (and feels awkward about it). He even sends a message to an old friend from the navy who he knows is into some pretty intense stuff.

After days of research, he comes to a solution. Or something like it, anyway. It wouldn’t help at work, but maybe it will at home, and he has several different tabs pulled up on his laptop by the time he asks Crockett if they can sit down and talk after dinner one night.

“Gonna give me a presentation about how my jambalaya is too spicy?” Crockett asks, gesturing to the laptop. It’s good natured, but his eyes are narrow, brows drawn in. He’s worried. “Or is this an elaborate breakup plan?”

Ethan ignores both comments. “I just wanna show you something, come over here.”

He waits for Crockett to scoot closer, until their bodies are pressed together and he can see the first tab. A collar. About an inch wide, dark blue leather with silver metal fastenings. It has a loop to add a tag if desired. Crockett looks over it slowly, the way he looks at patients, and then turns to Ethan.

"Oh?"

"You uh…" Ethan clears his throat. "You seem to really like it when I touch your throat. Even if I'm not choking you. I just thought maybe… I thought this is something you might like."

Crockett leans in and kisses his neck. "This what you were thinking about the other night?"

"Kinda. It gave me the idea."

He hums and clicks "add to cart" without looking at the other options. Admittedly, Ethan doesn't like them as much as this one anyway, so he doesn't push for Crockett to look at the test. 

"Anything once," he says with a smile.

"Anything once," Ethan answers. 

They'll try anything once. 

The four days it takes for the expedited shipping package to arrive are the longest Ethan’s ever experienced. Every night, he winds up with his hand on Crockett’s throat, legs wrapped around his waist. And it feels as good as always, but now there’s the promise for more. They’re both so aware of it, and Crockett’s eyes are almost glazed over in pleasure each time that Ethan’s fingers dig into the sides of his neck.

When it finally arrives, Ethan holds the box in his hands like it’s a crown.Something precious and special. It is, and he feels like the world is about to change as he carefully cuts the tape open. Crockett will be home any moment. And then they’ll try this out. The smooth, supple leather. He holds it up against his own neck just to see how it feels. Cold, mostly. It’ll probably warm up as it’s worn, since Crockett tends to run hot anyways. He sets it back down after and waits. 

Crockett is coming off a fourteen hour shift when he gets home. His shoulders curled in, his eyes dull. He’s exhausted. Overwhelmed. In need of care. It’s moments like these he likes Ethan to be in charge of him, to take care of him, to take control of him. He doesn’t say a word as he kicks off his shoes, drops his backpack, and sinks to his knees on the soft carpet with his head down.

Ethan reaches down and cups his jaw, guides Crockett to look up at him. He’s so beautiful, and there’s something about knowing that someone as strong-willed and stunning and intelligent as Crockett trusts him.

“Something came in today,” he says, and picks the collar back out of its packaging. “Do you want to try it tonight, or another time?”

It takes a minute to get an answer. Crockett doesn’t like choosing in moments like this. But it’s new, and different, and Ethan isn’t going to do this unless he knows Crockett is ready to take this step. It’s more than a collar. It’s something physical that represents what they have together behind closed doors.

But eventually, Crockett nods, and tilts his head back for Ethan to wrap the leather around his throat. It’s a nice color on him, the navy and silver. And he visibly swallows as Ethan slips the end through the buckle, pulls it taut, secures it. He checks it’s not too tight by slipping two fingers between the collar and Crockett’s throat. Perfect. Ethan steps back slightly, and there’s a visible change to the way Crockett holds himself now. Calmer. 

“Bedroom, please. And take off your scrubs.”

While Crockett obeys, Ethan fills up their water bottles to be ready when they’re finished. He also grabs a couple of washcloths from the cabinet, for easier cleanup. He knows too well that Crockett will be clingy afterward, and unwilling to let Ethan get up to take care of him. It’s adorable, how desperate for affection he becomes. 

When Ethan walks into their bedroom, Crockett is naked save for his new collar, kneeling on the bed with his head down again. It must have been a rough day. Usually, he likes to make eye contact, likes to rile Ethan up by doing something suggestive if not outright sexual. But right now, he’s still and demure. 

“Good boy,” he praises, and Crockett shifts. He’s well on his way to hard, but not quite there because he needs to be touched. “I’ve got you.”

He sits on the edge of the bed and Crockett comes to lay over his lap. Feet braced on the floor. Head in his crossed arms. A little arch in his back. Ethan rarely starts this way, but Crockett needs it, and he’s happy to oblige. No counting today. Just this. Usually, he has his free hand on Crockett’s lower back, but now he slips two fingers back into Crockett’s collar. Like he figured, it’s warm now. And the added pressure makes Crockett whine and squirm a little. 

There’s something different about this, that much is obvious. Crockett just seems calmer, quicker to relax. He’s never dropped this fast, this hard. But it’s okay, because Ethan is here to take care of him, and has gotten pretty damn good at it, too. He’d like to think he knows what he’s doing when it comes to this. 

He’s used to the slight sting on his palm when he strikes Crockett’s ass. It happens when he hits hard enough, but none of that matters when Crockett moans breathily and grinds his hips against Ethan’s legs. He bows his head to make the collar pull more. Okay. He needs more. Ethan hits him harder this time, and does it again, over and over until Crockett’s ass is bright red and his palm is pink, and Crockett has moved from whimpering to a mixture of moans and sobs. As soon as Ethan stops, pulls him into an upright position in his lap and kisses his damp cheeks.

“I’ve got you,” he repeats.

Crockett hides his face in Ethan’s neck and begins grinding his hips against Ethan’s lower stomach. It’ll make a mess. But that doesn’t matter, not when Crockett has glassy eyes and his lips are parted, making the most desperate little sounds as he gets himself off. Ethan keeps one hand on his ass, rough, the other still pulling a little at his collar. And it’s enough, because after only a handful of minutes, Crockett comes between them, warm and sticky.

“Good boy, you did so good,” Ethan says, and holds Crockett close as he cries hard. It’s like this afterward. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

He reaches to remove the collar to start cleanup, but Crockett grabs Ethan’s hand to stop him. 

“No,” he says hoarsely. 

“Okay.”

He’s clingy still as Ethan strips off his own dirty clothes and cleans up the mess between them, coaxes cold water into Crockett’s mouth. He didn’t get off this time, but it’s okay. It’s not about him. It’s about Crockett, and the way he curls up with Ethan and holds his hand against his collar. It was a good idea, then.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“In the morning,” Crockett whispers. “Please.”

“Okay.”

Ethan lays with him and, once Crockett is asleep, he undoes the collar and sets it aside. They can talk about it later, maybe after they talk about whatever happened today, and set rules and boundaries. Clearly they’ll be using it. But they’ll talk about it more another time. 

He feels warm all over, loved, trusted, as he listens to Crockett’s soft snores and strokes his bare back. 

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @princessbekker


End file.
